This chapter is kinda short, so if it's okay with you reader peoples, I might go ahead and upload chapter 4 later today as well. Let me know if you have an opinion one way or another.

And enjoy some Life on Mars goodness! :)

Part Three

As soon as Gene entered CID, Annie started following him. Somehow, he had known that she would. Before she could ask, Gene held up a hand and said, "He's okay, Cartwright. He's surviving."

"Oh. Good." She linked her fingers together in front of her, looking like a lost child without Sam there. "Guv, what are we gonna do? I know he didn't do it. He didn't kill that man."

"I know, luv. Don't get yer knickers in a twist." Gene walked into his office with Annie on his heels. "Shut the door behind you," he ordered.

Annie nodded, and with a quiet "yes, Guv," closed the office door. She turned to face him, then, her large eyes full of pleading.

Gene's stomach twisted at the look on her face. But he couldn't show that. "Gore or Babbin shown their ugly mugs yet?"

"No, sir. Not yet."

"Good." Gene whipped a cigarette out of one of his drawers and lit it. "Anyone lookin' at the evidence?"

Annie nodded. "Yeah. Chris." She managed a brave smile. "Ray's been runnin' things right well this mornin.' Never thought I'd hear myself say that."

Gene took a drag of tobacco smoke. The familiar taste and smell instantly soothed his frazzled nerves. "Good for Ray. Heard anything from anyone higher up?"

"No, Guv."

"Well fill out all the necessary paperwork for me naming Tyler my personal prisoner," Gene told her. "Then we'll see what we can do with this evidence."

"Yes, Guv." Annie turned and started toward the door, then hesitated and turned. "Sam wouldn't want us to... cheat for him, you know. He'd want everything done right."

"Do I look like that halfwit Babbin?" Gene snapped. "I know what Sam would want. But that's not what matters, is it, Cartwright? What matters is getting him out of this mess, so snap to it!"

Annie pressed her lips together, wisely not pushing the matter. She turned the door handle.

Gene sighed. "And you don't have to whine about it. We'll be doin' this right, all of it. This has to be watertight. Sam's innocent, and somewhere out there is the evidence to prove it."

Annie smiled briefly. "Yes, sir." She slipped out of the office, leaning Gene alone with his thoughts.

He had never really liked being alone with his thoughts. Quickly, he checked his desk for more messages, then hurried out of the office.

It wasn't right, the Boss not being there. Chris folded the smudged piece of paper on his desk into the shape of a paper airplane as he reflected on how wrong it felt not having the Boss there to tell him to stop fooling around and get to work. Of course, the Boss would then feel bad about being sharp with him and would say something nice, give him some advice about girls...

"Stop poutin', Chris, and get to work," Ray snapped from beside him.

Chris glanced at Ray, who was glaring at him. "What work am I s'posed to be getting to?" he wondered aloud. "We've got naught but this one case to work on. And we've got nothin'! Nothin' 'cept what points to the Boss."

Ray rolled his eyes. "The Boss didn't do it," he said firmly.

Chris knew Ray didn't particularly like Sam. He also knew that Sam had slowly gained Ray's respect. He supposed you didn't actually have to like a person in order to respect them... "Well how are we gonna prove that?"

"Not by mopin' about," Ray told him, waving his cigarette in Chris's direction. "Now you get to work on that paperwork like the Guv said."

Chris sighed and put down the paper airplane, picking up the stack of paperwork from the Boardman case instead. He despaired at finding anything useful there to help Sam. He knew, just like Ray and Annie and the Guv, that the Boss was innocent. But he didn't think the answer to helping Sam would be found in the paperwork from the case.

With a chill, Chris thought about why the evidence might point so forcefully at the DI. Someone must have it out for him...

"Read, Chris!" Ray ordered.

Chris shook himself—physically and mentally—and started skimming the paperwork. If only Sam could see them now, all working together on the same thing, all completely focused—even Ray. It was almost enough to make Chris smile. Then he remembered how pale the Boss had looked, shivering and swaying on his knees, with only the Guv keeping him from falling into his own puke...

That was almost enough to make Chris cry.

This was it, the big piece of evidence that planted Sam at the scene of the crime, at the time of the crime. Annie held up the bag and frowned angrily at the bloody shirt inside it. It did, indeed, look like one of Sam's shirts—white, with vertical tan stripes. And it was his size, small. And it had been found in one of his drawers.

The blood covering it matched the blood of the victim.

"How are we gonna get you out of this one, Sam?" Annie murmured as she set the bag on her desk. She had been there when the evidence was processed—the bloody shirt, the picture of the boot print (which matched Sam's shoe size), the ink pen found at the crime scene and the cigarette ashes.

That one piece of physical evidence did not point at Sam. Sam didn't smoke. She had said that to Gore and Babbin, and they had ignored this. They had kept asking her, "Do you know anyone who wears a shirt like this? Wears boots like that? Carries an ink pen on a regular basis?"

They had been brought it on the case because a fifth and damning piece of evidence indicated that someone in CID, in Gene Hunt's department, had committed the crime. A scrap of paper with CID's seal had been found beneath Robert Boardman's bludgeoned body. Smudged and small, it had yet revealed Gene's name... and it appeared to be written in Sam's handwriting.

That piece of paper had led Gore and Babbin to search the homes of Gene's team. They had first searched Gene's house, then Sam's. And there they had found the shirt. Sam had protested strongly, insisting on his innocence.

At first, Annie had not been worried. Of course Sam wouldn't have killed anyone. They would find out that it was all a mistake. When he was brought in for questioning, she didn't think any bad would come of it, only good. They would remember the cigarette ash; they would find some other piece of evidence pointing away from Sam...

It had been Chris's idea to check on lost and found. He had a bad feeling about things, he said. So they had walked down the hall together, followed by Ray, who was rolling his eyes and telling them to leave be. He had stopped saying that when they heard the sounds of violence coming from the room. Then they had all stood there silently, meeting each other's wide and worried eyes.

When they heard the Guv shouting, Annie had wanted to go in, to stop whatever was happening. Ray had insisted that they stay back and let Gene handle it. Which they did.

And then, when Gore and Babbin stalked out of the room, looking angry and flustered, they had all three rushed in, only to see the Guv keeping Sam from collapsing, and Sam trembling and sweating and trying to smile at her, trying to reassure her.

Annie had been angry and frightened. She still was. She wanted so badly to rush to Gene's house and find Sam and hug him and comfort him and tell him that she believed in him, that she had never doubted him, that they would find who had really done this...

But she couldn't now. Not yet. She had to find evidence that accused someone else, anyone else but Sam.

The bullpen was so quiet. Chris had his head bent over paperwork from the case. Ray was sifting through various objects found at the crime scene that had not been considered evidence before. And the Guv was staring at the cigarette ash and the scrap of paper with his name on it, his name written by Sam's hand.

It was too quiet. Annie figured the Guv would speak first, and she was right.

"Right." Gene stood up and looked at his team, making sure he had everyone's attention. "You lot, I want you to start focusin' on our dead man. I want you to dig deep and find out everything you can about this bloke—who his friends were, who his enemies were, if he had a lover, where he liked to get drunk and what he liked to eat for breakfast. All of it. I want it found out."

They were all staring at him. Ray was nodding and chewing his gum, Chris looked confused and Annie looked concerned. The others were all wearing similar expressions.

"Oi! What're you starin' at? You want to solve this case don't ya? Then get a move on!" He clapped his hands together, and everyone jumped, then went into motion.

They all knew what to do. They knew the procedure for digging into someone's background. Coats and hats were grabbed, and a few men slipped out the door to go asking around town about Robert Boardman. Ray called Chris over to help him look through the victim's belongings, and Annie hurried to a file cabinet to search for more paperwork—not only about the case, but about their victim's past.

Gene felt a moment of intense pride in his team, but he didn't allow himself to enjoy it for long. He had to get to work, too. He had a case to solve. And if he didn't solve it quick, his DI was going to pay the price.